


before we end and then begin

by torigates



Category: Actor RPF, Gossip Girl
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 03:56:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/pseuds/torigates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was going to be Emma's year. That is, until her sister passed away leaving her custody of her two year old daughter, and everything went to shit. This is the story of how Emma put all the pieces back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	before we end and then begin

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo... I don't even know. Is it RPF? Is it original fic? Is it a Gossip Girl AU? It probably lies somewhere in between. This labour of love and insanity could not be here if it weren't for my partner in crime, [](http://cashewdani.livejournal.com/profile)[**cashewdani**](http://cashewdani.livejournal.com/), who wrote the prequel which can be found at her journal [here](http://cashewdani.livejournal.com/666135.html), alongside some photos in case you can't keep who's who straight. You can read this first or the prequel first, it doesn't really matter. They're more companion pieces than a linear story (although, it is linear. Ish).
> 
> You should probably read [this](http://cashewdani.livejournal.com/665964.html) first. Then check out the sequel.

 

 

 

Whenever bad things happened, people would always say things like, “I’ll never forget it was a Tuesday,” or “It was raining when I heard the news.” That wasn’t Emma’s case. She thought it might have been a Thursday, or maybe a Saturday when her phone rang at just after ten in the evening. She can’t remember what she was doing at the time, or what she had done earlier that day. Those details aren’t important.

She did remember thinking it was weird that their apartment phone was ringing. Aubrey had been bothering her for weeks that they should shut that thing off. The two of them had cell phones, it was a waste of money, she argued. Emma knew all Aubrey's arguments were valid, but she held on to that home phone for some reason. Maybe for this reason.

“Hello?”

“I’m looking for Emma Stone,” said the voice on the other end.

“This is she.” Emma did that thing where she quickly went through a mental list of people who could be calling her. She didn’t recognize the voice. Someone from work? But why wouldn’t they call her cell? Telemarketer? They usually jumped right into whatever sales pitch they had planned.

“This is Dr. Atkinson. I’m calling from Good Samaritan hospital in Los Angeles. There’s been an accident.”

Emma remembered the way her heart clenched. She remembered finding it hard to breathe. She remembered the way her vision seemed to grey along the edges.

Later, she wouldn’t remember what she had said, or what words the doctor had used. She didn’t remember sinking to the floor, but she must have, because that was where Aubrey found her sitting, minutes or hours later she wasn’t sure.

“What are you doing?” Aubrey asked.

“Drew’s dead,” she said. And that seemed to make it real for the first time. Her sister was dead.

 

 

Aubrey booked her flight.

Emma sat on the couch, and watched as she navigated the airline’s website, wondering how this was actually her real life.

“Should I just book for you, or...” the question hung in the air between them. Was there someone else? But it was just Emma. Just Emma and Drew, and their dad, when he wasn’t overseas or on base, and shit, Emma hadn’t even thought to call dad. Hadn’t even thought to ask if anyone at the hospital had called.

“Just me,” she said.

Aubrey nodded and went back to clicking furiously. That was the great thing about Aubrey. She just did her thing, and didn’t expect a lot from Emma, but she was always there when it counted.

“I’m,” she started. “I better call my dad.”

She wandered into the other room, and picked up the same house phone that had delivered the news.

The line rang across thousands of miles, once, twice. It seemed to take forever to get her dad on the line, and when he was finally there his voice sounded distant. He seemed farther away than he had in years.

“Emma?”

“Dad?” She felt young. She felt young and scared, and she remembered getting the news of her mother’s death all those years ago, and she just burst into tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “What happened?”

She told him.

When she hung up, Aubrey was waiting on the couch. “I got you two tickets.”

“What?”

“Zach’s coming over.”

 

 

Zach came over and Aubrey packed her bag, and in the morning they got on a plane to fly out to Los Angeles. It was the first time Emma really had a chance to think. It was the first time that things actually started to sink in. Her sister was dead, and Emma had been thinking about what that meant for her.

Zach held her hand the entire time on the plane, and she rested her head on his shoulder, but she didn’t sleep. Dad was going to meet her in LA and they would plan the funeral. Then Emma would have to pack up all of Drew’s things and they’d have to sell her house, and they’d have to figure out what to do about Amy.  
Since she’d heard the news less than twelve hours ago, Emma had barely spared a thought for Amy. She knew that made her a horrible person, but she had been caught up in the shock and horror of her sister’s sudden death. She hadn’t thought about what that would mean for Drew’s two year old daughter.

Or, she had thought about it, she just hadn’t wanted to admit what that would mean. Because it was only Emma, Drew and their dad, and dad was still active in the army. There was no one else to look after Amy. It would have to be Emma. She knew that. She just wasn’t able to look at it head on and think about what it would mean. It was too big. Too scary.

She couldn’t look after a kid. She was just a kid herself.

Except that wasn’t true. Sometimes she couldn’t believe she had graduated from college more than four years ago. It still seemed like yesterday Blair walzed into her dorm room and completely took over her life. Blair had led her to the Dans, who had led her to Zach, and here she was now sitting on a plane with him going to decide the fate of another human being. It was surreal.

She wiped a few tears away and Zach squeezed her hand. Emma smiled at him.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

She put her head back on his shoulder. “You’re doing it.”

He kissed her head.

She wasn’t ready for this, but then again, no one was ready for their sister to die. No one prepared for these things. Emma knew she would do whatever it took to take care of Amy. Drew may have always been the sister with everything together, but she had been a single mom too. If she could do it, Emma could do it. She promised herself then and there not to let anyone give her any shit. She was going to take Amy home with her to Chicago and raise her, and she’d do it on her own.

She could do this.

It shouldn’t have happened, Emma knew that. It probably would have never happened, had the circumstances been different, but by the time they finally took her to see Amy, she was exhausted. She was grief stricken. She just wanted to sit with Amy in her lap, and hold her niece tight and pretend like they were sitting in Drew’s living room and none of this had ever happened. Except, she barely had two minutes to sit with Amy, before they were leading her off to ask an office, and she found herself sitting across from two stone-faced Child’s Services Agents, feeling like she had been sent to the principal’s office for skipping gym class. Suffice it to say, Emma was feeling a whole less confident about the whole thing. They asked her questions about her job and income and living situation and made frowning faces whenever she answered. The furrow between their eyebrows was probably a permanent fixture, Emma thought.

“And you’re single?” the one agent asked.

She wasn’t sure why she did it. She had rehearsed this moment countless times in her head on the way over. She had practiced it and practiced it and promised herself she was going to be strong when they asked her about being single (people always seemed to ask her about being single), and yet when the words came out, she panicked. She just wanted Amy to come home with her.

“I’m engaged,” she lied.

 

 

“You said _what_?” Zach asked.

She had been forced to leave Amy with Child Services for another night, which Emma hadn’t been happy about, but after leaving there she had gone to speak with Drew’s lawyer (it was still strange that Drew had a lawyer. That Drew had a _will_ ).

“She left you custody,” the lawyer told her. “It should make things a lot simpler.”

Emma let out the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Things would be okay. Or, not okay, okay meant Drew was here to raise Amy like she should have been, but at least things weren’t as terrible as they could have been. Emma didn’t know what she would have done if they had to give Amy up to foster care.

“I said we were engaged?” he voice rose as if she were asking Zach to tell her what she had done.

“But... _why_?”

“I panicked! They were looking at me with their frowns and their pads of paper and taking judgy notes of everything I was saying, and I just didn’t want them to take Amy away from me, I just, I just, I just--” she started to sob.

He walked over, and held her as she cried.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll make it work.” He rubbed her back and Emma wanted so badly to believe that they would.

And so they were “engaged.”

 

In the end, her lie had shockingly little consequences. Drew’s lawyer took care of most things, thank god. Emma and Zach stayed in LA for two weeks, packing up all of Drew and Amy’s things, preparing the house for sale, making sure the custody papers were all signed and finalized.

When it was all said and done, Emma stood in Drew’s empty house, watching as the movers moved around her, packing boxes away, hauling out furniture, packing up the life Drew had made for herself, and all she wanted to do was sob.

She and Zach had been sharing a hotel room, which was both weird and not. They’d shared beds more times than Emma could remember, countless forgotten drunken nights when Emma would climb into his bed, or Zach into hers, or the two of them into Aubrey’s, or Dan’s or Blair’s and just sleep it all off and kick each other out of the bed, and whine and grumble until someone would finally get up and make bacon.

This was different. Aubrey had booked them a hotel room with two separate beds, and Emma was thankful, but not. She wanted the excuse for physical contact, she wanted to make it okay to climb into Zach’s space and never move out of it again until everything stopped hurting and she could finally breathe again. At night she pressed her face against the wall and held her breath, as if that could stop the full body sobs that went through her.

It was real, ugly crying. The type of crying that made it hard to breathe, hard to see. The kind of crying that felt like it would never stop, and sometimes Emma wasn’t sure she wanted it to. Zach would climb into bed behind her, tucking his knees against the backs of hers, and wrap an arm around her waist while she cried. It didn’t make anything better, but it helped Emma to feel less alone.

Now she stood in the wreckage of the life Drew had built for herself, and Emma wondered how life could do this. How could her sister be gone? Amy would never know her, and it was all just too unfair to fathom.

“Are you okay?” Zach’s voice startled her out of thoughts. She turned to see him standing in front of her with Amy propped up in his arms on one of his hips. She had her arms around his neck.

Emma smiled. Amy had taken to Zach quickly, which definitely wasn’t surprising. Everyone took quickly to him. He was handsome and friendly, and he had a smile that said you can trust me one minute, and I’m going to get you in a whole lot of trouble the next. She was so thankful he was here with her. She would have to buy Aubrey at least six breakfasts as a thank you for orchestrating this. Her roommate was a sneaky bitch.

“Emma?”

She looked up at Zach. “Yeah,” she said. “Just... thinking.”

He nodded, and Emma held out her arms for him to pass her Amy. The toddler squirmed, and Emma tried to take it as a sign that her niece was just cranky and tired, and not that she liked Zach better. Because that was something she should be thinking about; her sister was dead, and Emma was worried about a popularity contest with a two year old.

She had last been down to visit Drew and Amy at Christmas, but that was a good six months ago, which may as well be a lifetime for a toddler. Emma was trying not to think about the fact that if Amy could barely remember Emma, she probably wouldn’t have many memories of Drew. It was too depressing.

She pulled Amy close to her and kissed her on the cheek. “Time to go,” she said taking one last look around.

“Mama?” Amy asked, and Emma tried not to cry.

“No, sweetheart,” she said. “We’re not going to see Mommy.”

Zach squeezed her hand.

 

 

The next few weeks were the hardest of Emma’s life. Emma used up every single vacation day, sick day, grief day, and family day that her job would give her, and it still wasn’t enough. In the end she had to take a two month leave of absence just to deal with incorporating a two year old into her life. It was surreal, but Emma had the money from Drew’s will, and that would hold her over of a while. A little while.

It seemed like Amy never stopped crying, and every time she asked for Drew, Emma wanted to sit down on the floor next to her and bawl her eyes out. They moved all of Amy’s furniture and things into Emma and Aubrey’s apartment, which mostly worked for them, but most nights Emma couldn’t sleep at night for all the worry she had about disrupting Aubrey’s life, and what the hell was she doing raising a toddler, she didn’t know the first thing about child rearing.

Drew’s house sold fast, and Emma went to the bank and sat down with financial advisors (she had financial advisors now) about planning for Amy’s future, saving for college, things adults did. Things parents did. That’s when it would hit her; she was an adult--or at least a parent. It was a terrifying thought.

The people at Child Services had arranged for a social worker to pay Emma visits at her apartment, see how things were going, make sure they were getting settled in okay. She felt like she was always walking on eggshells, waiting for someone to catch her doing something wrong, but when the worker came to visit she was friendly and encouraging and offered Emma lots of support. Sometimes Emma felt like everyone else was going out of their way to make this as easy for her as possible, and it was only her own ineptitude that was causing her so much grief. The social worker didn’t even ask her about why Emma was living with a roommate and not her supposed fiance. She thought she should be grateful, but mostly she just felt guilty. Guilty all the time for all the ways she was failing Amy, Drew, and herself.

 

 

“So,” Aubrey said, drawing out the word in that way only she could ever seem to manage. “You lied?”

“I lied,” Emma confirmed.

“You said you were engaged,” she said.

“I did,” Emma said. “To Zach.”

Aubrey seemed to consider this for a long moment. Emma chewed on her thumbnail; a habit she never managed to break. “And Zach knows about this.”

She nodded. “He does.”

“This is like the worst idea you’ve ever had,” Aubrey finally concluded.

“I know,” Emma said, and buried her head in her hands. It was. It really was the worst idea she had had in a long time. She and Zach were... whatever. Had always been whatever, and adding this complication into the mix was just an all around horrible idea.

“You know he’s basically in love with you,” Aubrey said.

Emma did what she always did when confronted with that fact: she ignored it. Everyone talked about how Zach was in love with her. Aubrey was always stating the fact outright, trying to get Emma to admit it. “You love him,” she would say. “Admit that you love him,” and Emma would find something simply fascinating about whatever was on television, or her cereal box, or whatever else was in the nearest vicinity.

Blair and the Dans were just as bad, but no one was as bad as Andy, saying it out loud in front of everyone, like if he said it enough times she and Zach would just figure their shit out and actually make it work.

As if it were that simple.

It was after three a.m. and Amy hadn’t stopped crying for more than thirty seconds in the last two hours. Emma had tried everything. She had fed her, burped her, changed her, sang to her, made funny faces, bounced her up and down on her knee, and walked around the apartment in endless circles for hours. Nothing worked.

Aubrey was lying on the couch with her hands over her ears just moaning. A long, endless moan that seemed to go on and on, and in between her cooing noises Emma had to wonder how Aubrey was even breathing at this point.

“I’m sorry,” she said, rocking her body back and forth. Still the two year old would not stop crying. “I think she just misses Drew.” She wanted to cry herself as she admitted that.

“I know!” Aubrey said. “But fuck, Emma, I actually have work tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’ll take her outside.”

Aubrey grumbled under her breath and walked back to her bedroom. She slammed the door. Emma tried not to take it personally, because Aubrey had been so great during all this, Emma wasn’t sure how she could have gotten through the weeks since Drew’s death without her. Still, it stung, and Emma tried not to feel like a failure. She tried to remember that Aubrey really did have work in the morning, and that she got crankier than most people when she was tired.

She tried to remember all these things as she stepped outside their front door. She hoped none of their neighbours were sleeping with the windows down. She tried not to care.

“Fuck them,” she said.

Amy hiccuped and continued to cry.

Emma whined, deep and low in her throat. It was the kind of frustrated sound she had heard misbehaved children make in the supermarket when their parents wouldn’t buy them the candy or toy they wanted. Except Emma didn’t want any candy or toys. She just wanted Amy to stop crying for one minute.

“Please,” she begged. “Please stop crying.”

Amy ignored her. Emma continued to walk back and forth across the sidewalk in front of her house. Amy’s cries cut off into small whimpering moans, which were somehow more depressing.

She shifted the toddler’s weight onto her other hip, and dug her cellphone out of her pocket. She punched the familiar number into the keypad without thinking.

On the third ring, Zach picked up.

“Hello?” His voice was scratchy with sleep.

“Zach?” she asked.

“Emma? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is Amy okay?”

She couldn’t even bring herself to smile at his obvious concern. “She won’t stop crying. I’m outside because Aubrey needs to sleep and Amy won’t stop crying and I can’t get her to stop crying! She won’t stop crying!” Her voice had become steadily more panicked and screechy as she talked. Beside her, Amy cried harder.

“I’m coming over,” he said.

Twenty minutes later, his car pulled to a stop beside the curb. Amy was now asleep in Emma’s arms, but every minute or so she would whimper. Emma was afraid to stop moving in case she woke up and started to cry again.

Zach climbed out of the car, and smiled that shy smile of his at her, and walked up the sidewalk.

“You didn’t have to come,” she said, when he was standing next to hear. He was wearing a faded university t-shirt and sweatpants.

He shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

She shook her head, and felt tears spring to her eyes. Emma felt like she had been crying a lot lately. It was her new thing that she did, and she thought, halfheartedly, at least she had that in common with her niece. “It is a big deal,” she insisted. “It’s the middle of the night.”

He shrugged again, and held out his arms. Gently, Emma passed the slumbering child to him, and watched as Amy wound her arms around his neck sleepily. It wasn’t fair. Everyone was better at this then she was, and she just had no clue what the fuck she was doing.

She wiped furiously at the tears in her eyes.

“Come on,” he said. “I think she’s out.”

They walked back into the building, and Emma quietly locked the door, while Zach took Amy to her crib. It was still off to the side of their living room, because their apartment only had two rooms, and Emma’s bedroom was too small to fit her bed and Amy’s.

Zach lay her down gently in the crib, and turned to face her with a small smile.

“It’s not fair you can do that,” she said. “I begged her for hours to go to sleep.”

He walked across the room and put his arms around Emma’s shoulders. His t-shirt smelled like laundry detergent, and his skin smelled clean from an earlier shower. She sniffed against his shoulder. “Everyone is better at this than me,” she said. Her words were muffled.

His chin was resting on the top of her head. “That’s not true,” he said. “You’re doing great.”

“I’m doing shit, Zach.” She felt the hysteria creeping into her voice.

He pulled on her hand and dragged her towards the bedroom. She was glad, because she really would never forgive herself if her crying had woken Amy.

When her bedroom door was closed, he turned to face her, standing at arm’s length, his hands on her shoulders.

“It takes practice,” he said.

“It doesn’t take you practice,” she said. She knew she was being petulant and whiny, but she was tired and sick of feeling like a failure, and she just couldn’t keep the words in anymore. “It doesn’t take Blair or the Dans practice. Even Aubrey is doing a better job than me!”

He shook his head. “We’re all doing this part time,” he said. “You’re doing this 24/7, of course it’s going to be harder for you.”

She shook her head. “I should be able to do this,” she said. “I should be able to do it by myself, and not have to wake you up in the middle of the night! I shouldn’t--” she broke off. She had almost said, _I shouldn’t have to be here_.

Zach pulled her in for another hug, gently steering her towards the bed. He sat down, and pulled Emma with him. She leaned against his shoulder and cried.

“I need to stop making a habit of this.” She sniffed. She wasn’t sure if she meant crying on Zach’s shoulder or calling him over. She was glad he didn’t ask.

In the end, she had tired herself out with crying. It was just another thing she shared with her niece. Zach gently pushed her down onto the bed, and wrapped his arm around her. For once, Emma didn’t fight him.

She woke up the next morning with the sun streaming through her window and faint sounds coming from the kitchen. The sheets were rumpled around her, and Emma looked around the room, feeling bewildered.

Zach had slept over.

Zach had slept over plenty of times before this, and they’d shared a number of beds together, but somehow this felt different. Ever since they had shared the hotel room in LA, things had felt different between them. The stakes had been raised, and Emma didn’t know what to do about it.

In the kitchen, Zach was making pancakes. Aubrey was sitting at the table, wearing her thick framed glasses (and that’s how Emma knew she was tired from the night before. Aubrey only wore her glasses when she was extremely tired or drunk), and Amy was sitting next to her in her high chair. There was a handful of Cheerios spilled across the top, and she was munching happily on them. She was the only one who didn’t look completely exhausted. Zach was making pancakes at the stove.

“Hey,” she said hesitantly.

Aubrey looked up and grunted.

“Good morning,” Zach said.

Amy looked up at her and smiled. It almost made Emma forgive her for the previous night.

She sat down at the table and Zach put a plate of pancakes in front on her. Aubrey was already methodically eating a stack on her plate that was covered with syrup.

“So,” Zach said sitting down next to her.

Emma smiled, and he handed her the syrup.

“I was thinking,” he said.

Aubrey’s fork paused mid-way to her mouth, before she shovelled another bite. It was the only indication she gave that she was listening to their conversation.

“I think I should move in here.”

Emma dropped the syrup. Aubrey continued to eat.

“What?” she asked.

“I think I should move in here.”

“And live where?” she asked incredulously.

“Here.”

“We’re already too many people for this tiny apartment! Come on, Zach. Don’t be ridiculous.”

His expression turned serious. “It’s not ridiculous, Emma. It makes sense. You need help, and I don’t want to keep driving here in the middle of the night. Besides, I thought we were supposed to be engaged.”

She stood up and ran her fingers through her hair. “Fake engaged!” she said. “That’s just pretend, Zach. That’s just--”

“It wasn’t pretend when you were calling me over last night,” he said cutting her off.

“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry, I keep hoping I won’t have to call you. I just need to get the hang of things.”

“It’s not about getting the hang of things!” he said frustrated. “It’s about you accepting help.”

“I shouldn’t have called you.”

He sighed. “That is _not_ the point I’m trying to make, Emma. You need help. I want to help. If I’m here, it makes it easier for me to help.”

“And what about Aubrey? Is she just supposed to accept _another_ person into her apartment? Where will you sleep, Zach? Are you going to live on our couch? What about your apartment? What about your lease?”

“I already said I’d move in with Andy.”

Emma slowly turned to face Aubrey.

“What did you say?”

She shrugged. “Zach talked to me about it, and I’m cool with living with Andy.”

She turned, furious to look at Zach. “You talked about this with her? Before even asking me?”

He opened his mouth. Emma didn’t wait for a response, she turned on her heel and walked back to her bedroom. She slammed the door. Amy started to cry.

“Fuck,” she said under her breath.

She stood in the middle of her bedroom, and just focused on breathing. Outside her door she could hear Zach trying to calm Amy, and she felt a wave of guilt crash over her. She was supposed to be the responsible adult, and instead she was acting like a surly teenager.

She cursed again. Everything about this situation was fucked up beyond belief, and Emma was just tired of feeling overwhelmed and sad all the time. She wanted things to start getting easier. Things were supposed to start getting easier at some point, but instead it just kept getting harder and harder. Emma wasn’t sure how much more she could stand.

And yeah. Maybe things would be easier with Zach around all the time, but was that something she really wanted? Emma had to admit that she did. She did want him around all the time, she wanted him to come and just make things easy for her like he did in LA.

It wasn’t fair of her, though, and she knew that. Zach had a life. He had a job and responsibilities, and things he needed to be worrying about besides taking care of Emma. As much as it might make things easier for her to have him around, she couldn’t be that selfish.

They were only pretending to be engaged. And even that was only for the social worker.

She was scared that if she let him into her life like that, completely, she would start to forget that they were pretending. She couldn’t let herself depend on him like that. She had to be able to do this on her own, because someday he wouldn’t be there.

There was a faint knock on her door, and Emma heaved a sigh, before turning around to open it. She squared her shoulders. She opened the door to see Zach holding the now placated Amy on his hip. The toddler smiled and reached out for Emma, and she couldn’t help but smile back. Whenever Amy smiled at her like that Emma could almost convince herself that she was doing an okay job, and not a shitty substitute for Amy’s real mom.

“Hi,” Zach said.

“I’m still mad at you,” she told him.

Amy wrapped her arms around Emma’s neck and looked up unhappily at her. “No, not you,” Emma reassured her niece with a kiss on the cheek. Amy grinned again.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Zach said, he sat down on her bed. Emma vaguely noted that it was still unmade, which wasn’t all that surprising considering she hardly ever made it in the mornings, but for some reason seeing him sitting on her rumpled sheets made her blush. That just made her even more mad.

“What--?” Emma broke off before she started screaming, and looked down at the toddler in her arms. She looked back at Zach, and glared. He’d done that on purpose, she was sure. She took another deep breath. “You can’t just move in,” she said.

“Why not?” he asked with a shrug.

“Why not?” She put Amy down next to him. She crawled over the sheets and immediately started to build a blanket fort. It reminded Emma of all the times she and Drew would climb into their parents’ bed on weekends and do the same thing. She sucked in a deep breath.

“Because, Zach.” She felt like a million reasons should have immediately sprung to her mind, but they didn’t. All she could think was they just shouldn’t.

He rolled his eyes. “You need help, Emma.” She opened her mouth, but he cut her off with a shake of his head. “Admit you need help. It’s okay. I _want_ to help you. It makes more sense for me to be here, and Aubrey needs her sleep or it’s going to ruin your friendship.”

That much was true. Aubrey had been great during all this, but Emma could see that it was wearing on her.

“You should have talked to me before her,” she said.

“Fine,” Zach said. “I’m sorry, I should have. I just knew you’d be against it, and I wanted to prepare the arguments.”

She sighed, but still clung to her resistance. Zach couldn’t move in. “Where would you sleep?” she asked.

He shrugged again. “On the couch?”

He wouldn’t sleep on the couch. Emma knew that much for certain. He’d end up sharing her bed, and she wasn’t sure she could handle that.

“Just because you accept help doesn’t mean you failed,” he said.

She sat down next to him on the bed, and knew he’d won. She needed help more than anything. Or actually, what she needed most was for Drew to still be alive, barring that, she needed help, and Zach was offering.

She sighed and put her head on his shoulder.

He put his hand on her bare knee and Emma looked down at his tan skin against her pale thigh. “Okay,” she whispered.

 

 

Blair met her the next day for lunch.

Back when they were undergrads, they would often grab a bite at the campus dining hall, and sit there for hours “studying” with their books and papers spread out in front of them. Blair always said that if you couldn’t _be_ productive, you should at least _look_ productive. It wasn’t a logic that Emma could easily follow, but she always felt better about wasting an afternoon away if she at least had her books open in front of her.

Dan used to tease them by saying they weren’t going to learn anything by osmosis. Blair would always roll her eyes and say that wasn’t the point.

Emma always felt better after those afternoons, just the two of them sitting together, laughing and talking. Sure, afterwards she always felt a sense of dread over wasting a whole afternoon doing nothing, but it was worth it at the time.

When they were done school the two of them would grab lunch at restaurants and cafes downtown, and Emma could fool herself into thinking she was a young, successful professional writer, instead of whatever she actually was.

Blair would sit in front of her and chat about how great things were going at work, and Emma would smile and try to be happy for her. She _was_ happy for Blair, and so proud too. When they were college together they talked about how they would work for magazines and publishers and just be all around famous. Emma was so happy all that came true for Blair. If a little bit of jealousy crept in, well, she was only human after all.

Now the two of them sat on a park bench, and Emma watched carefully as Amy dug in the sand. She was going to be filthy, and Emma was going to have to battle her into a bathtub later. She knew she’d probably regret the decision to let Amy amuse herself when she had a screaming, wet two year-old on her hands, but for now she was just enjoying the peace.

Every so often Amy would glance up at them and say, “Look!” with such enthusiasm that it almost hurt Emma to watch it. There was nothing in her life that excited Emma as much as Amy was currently losing her shit over a pile of sand. She didn’t even have a bucket or a shovel or anything.

“Zach wants to move in,” Emma said.

Blair calmly put down the can of coke she was drinking, and patted her mouth with a napkin. She thought, only Blair could make eating a sandwich in the park look like an upscale restaurant.

Then she turned to face Emma and punched her in the shoulder. Hard.

“What the fuck?” Emma asked. She really needed to cut down on the swearing before Amy started to pick these things up. That was not a conversation she wanted to have with a preschool teacher.

“You let me go on and on about stupid _Girl’s Life_ before dropping this bombshell on me?” she asked. “What the fuck, Emma?”

She put her hands over her face. “I don’t know,” she moaned. “He came over last night at like three in the morning because Amy would not stop crying and then he stayed and this morning he was making waffles and he just _said_ it, like it was no big deal, and apparently Aubrey already agreed to move in with Andy, and I don’t know what I’m doing!” Her voice had gotten shrill at the end. She took a deep breath.

Blair put her hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Breathe,” she said. Emma did. Blair was always so good at taking control of any situation. It was one of the things that had originally drawn Emma to her. She made everything feel less out of control, less scary.

“Now,” Blair said. Her voice sounded confident, sure. “I want to tell you something that I, along with every other person in your life has been trying to tell you for approximately the last four years. It is no big deal to Zach, because _Zach is in love with you._ ”

Emma sucked in a breath.

“Are you listening?” Blair asked.

Emma nodded. She was listening, she was. She just didn’t know what to do with the information.

“Do you think I should let him move in?” she asked.

Blair sighed and shook her head sadly. “Oh honey,” she said, and wrapped her arm around Emma’s shoulder, and Emma leaned into her.

“I don’t know what to do,” Emma whispered.

“It’s so obvious,” Blair said. “It’s right in front of you.”

They sat and watched Amy play in the sand until the end of Blair’s lunch hour.

Emma packed up all of Amy’s things, and loaded her in the back of her car. Amy squirmed as Emma deftly buckled her into the car seat, and when it was all done in under two minutes (a personal best) she stood back and put her hands on her hips. Maybe it was pathetic to feel proud over getting her kid into the car without major incident, but at this point she was going to take all the victories she could get.

She didn’t think too much about where she was going. She just drove along the familiar streets, letting herself fall into the rhythm of driving. When she pulled into the parking lot at the University, she took a deep breath, her hands still firmly at ten and two on the steering wheel. She lifted her eyes and saw Amy smiling at her in the rear view mirror.

“Am I really doing this?” she asked.

Amy cooed happily.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

She walked through the familiar halls, again allowing her body to take her where she needed to go on autopilot. She didn’t think about what she was doing or what she was going to say, she just walked. Outside Zach’s office she took another deep breath and knocked on his door before poking her head in. He looked up and smiled at her.

“Za!” Amy said happily. Emma set her down and Amy began walking around the small room running her fingers over the walls, creating imaginary designs only she could see. Emma forced a smile.

“Hey, little girl,” he said. He didn’t get up.

Emma crossed the room and sat down in the empty chair in front of him. He looked at her but didn’t say anything else.

“You look like a professor,” she said.

Zach smiled. “Am I intimidating?” he asked.

She nodded. “A little bit, yes.”

“That’s why none of my students come to office hours,” he told her. “I practically beg them to come for help, but they never do. Then they complain when they fail their papers and the exam.” He sighed, and Emma smothered a smile. It was an old rant, one she had heard from him so many times over the years.

He shook his head and looked up at her. He didn’t ask her why she was there, but Emma knew he wanted to.

“Yes,” she said. “You can move in.”

 

 

Zach roped all their friends into helping him and Aubrey move. Zach was the only person Emma knew who could get people to help him move willingly. Had that responsibility fallen to Aubrey, Emma knew it would have been just the three of them (plus _maybe_ Andy) on their own. As it was they had Emma, Aubrey, Zach, Andy, Blair, the Dans, and Emmy.

They started at Zach and Andy’s tiny apartment. Emma surveyed the work they had to do. All of Zach’s possessions were packed into boxes with neat labels, like “kitchen,” “clothes,” “books,” and “random.” Everything was organized and ready for the move. All they had to do was load the boxes into Emma and Dan B.’s cars, and they made quick work of it.

Once they unpacked Zach’s belongings, Emma walked into Aubrey’s bedroom. It looked just as it did on every other instance Emma had ever been in it: like it had been hit by a tornado. Emma felt like such a mom every time she went into Aubrey’s room. She felt like she wanted to tidy it up, or yell at her for living in such a pigsty. She smothered that reaction.

“You’re not packed,” Emma said.

Aubrey shrugged. “How long can it take?” she asked. She pulled out a few garbage bags, and started shoving all her clothes into them.

Emma sighed, and started to help her.

“Don’t bother folding anything,” Aubrey said.

Emma shook her head but did as she was told.

In the living room Blair had taken charge of things. She knew what belonged to Emma and what belonged to Aubrey. Which as it turned out, was shockingly little.

“What did you have before I moved in?” Emma asked.

They were all standing in the living room, looking at Aubrey’s small pile of furniture, which consisted of one armchair, a small bedside table, and a few tacky lamps. She had almost no kitchen things to speak of. Zach had left his table at Andy’s apartment, because Emma had one, so that left the two of them would manage. At the very least they wouldn’t be sitting on the floor.

Emma pulled Zach aside. “Maybe we should give them some of our kitchen stuff?” she said.

Zach raised his eyebrows, and Emma flushed slightly at the implication of what she had said. They might be living together, but they weren’t _together_ together. Strictly speaking they each still had their own stuff.

“I just mean, Aubrey doesn’t have anything,” she said. “I didn’t look in your kitchen, but I can’t imagine that Andy has all that much either.”

Zach chuckled. “You’re right about that,” he admitted. “I think I left Andy with maybe one fork and knife.”

Emma smiled.

“Okay,” Zach said. “I’ll send one of my kitchen boxes back with them.”

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Thanks.” He smiled at her.

Emma went into the kitchen and packed some things for Aubrey, and stuck them in Dan B.’s car. Aubrey never would have taken them had Emma tried to give it away. At least this way, she hoped they wouldn’t end up eating chili off of a frisbee, or something else ridiculous.

When everyone else had left, it was just Emma, Amy, and Zach sitting among all of the boxes. Amy had pushed a few of them together and was climbing over them. Emma was watching her carefully, holding her breath, scared that something would happen. Eventually, Zach went over and scooped her up, holding her in the air and making airplane noises. Amy giggled, and Emma felt her heart clench.

After a few minutes of playing with her, Zach dropped Amy into Emma’s lap, and went into the kitchen to make them all dinner.

“Should we read a story?” Emma asked Amy, and the little girl ran off to get a book. She came back with _Pete the Cat - I Love My White Shoes_.

Emma laughed. “Again?” she asked, and Amy laughed hysterically.

As Emma read to her, Amy laughed and clapped and sang along. “Sing! Sing!” she exclaimed, whenever Emma tried to avoid singing the song. Emma could hear Zach laughing from the kitchen.

Later, after they’d all eaten, and Emma gave Amy a bath and fought the two year old into her crib, the two of them collapsed on the couch, and stared hopelessly at the mountains of boxes that surrounded them.

“So,” she said, turning to face Zach.

He grinned at her. “So.”

“We’re really doing this?”

He held out his hand, and she took it. “We’re really doing this,” he said, and pulled her to her feet.

They spent the next few hours organizing boxes into piles and unpacking some of them. They didn’t talk much, except for the occasional, “Where do you want this?” asked by either one of them. It was companionable silence, and Emma started to think that maybe living together wasn’t a huge mistake. Maybe they could make it work.

It wasn’t until they were faced with the reality of one bed and the two of them that Emma was forcibly reminded why she had thought Zach living with her was a bad idea in the first place.

“I’ll just, uh,” Zach said gesturing towards the living room couch.

She shook her head. “Don’t be silly. The bed’s big enough for the two of us, and if you’re going to live here permanently, then you’re not going to sleep on the couch. We’ll just share until we figure something out.”

He nodded.

They took turns using the bathroom. Emma stared at herself in the mirror, and wondered what she was doing.

Zach was sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed when she emerged. He smiled at her, and she smiled shakily back at him. This shouldn’t be weird. It shouldn’t be weird, but it was. It didn’t seem to matter that they had shared a bed before. This seemed more real, somehow. More permanent.

She crossed the room quickly, and pulled back the covers, before climbing in. Zach followed her lead. They sat in awkward silence for a long moment. Emma reached over and turned off the light.

“Good night,” she said.

“Good night.”

If Emma’s life was a movie, she would have woken up with Zach’s arm draped around her, and they would have woken up at just the same moment and stared longingly into each other’s eyes, while her hair looked perfect despite the fact that she had slept funny on it all night long. And then they probably would have made out.

But Emma’s life wasn’t a movie. Most days it only felt like a joke.

When she woke up, Zach was still asleep, splayed out on his back, a good foot away from her. They weren’t touching at all. She lifted a hand to her head, and could feel the rats nest that had infected her head in the nighttime.

She sighed and went to get Amy up and make breakfast.

They settled into a routine. Emma went back to work. Amy started to attend daycare. Emma got really good at making the airplane noises that convinced Amy she really was hungry, and she learned to juggle a two year old, a diaper bag, her coffee, purse and car keys all at once. Zach learned how to make lasagna, and convinced his mom to babysit for them once a week so they could still go out with their friends.

Emma felt more and more like the time she spent with Blair, Aubrey, Andy and the Dans was her pretending to be a kid, and less and less that she was pretending to be an adult.

It was weird. Through it all, Zach was there. Giving Amy a bath or reading her a story so Emma could spend the extra time she needed to make her deadline for work, and helping Amy get to sleep at night, and playing dolls with her, and being wonderful.

It was after dinner, and Emma was making last minute changes to a piece her editor had requested. Zach was reading Amy a story, and she was giggling at the different voices he was making as he read. She rested her chin on her hand as she watched them, and got caught up in the story for a moment. The sound of Zach’s voice, Amy’s laughs, and she thought, _I love my family_.

She sat back, startled. She hadn’t done anything to deserve this. Drew had to _die_ to give her this, and she couldn’t let herself forget that. It wasn’t right.

That night when she and Zach climbed into bed, she didn’t turn to face him like she normally would. She lay flat on her back and stared at the ceiling.

“Everything okay?” Zach asked her. He sounded happy.

“Yes,” she said. “Everything is fine.”

After a few minutes, Zach’s breath evened out and he fell asleep. Emma listened to him breathe, and ignored the tears that trailed down her cheeks.

When she opened her eyes the clock on her bedside table read just after four. Her cheeks still felt wet, and her face felt puffy. Zach’s arm was around her waist, and she could feel his face pressed up against the back of her neck. He was whispering her name. “It’s okay,” he said. “Emma, it’s okay.”

She turned her head to see him, and he started to pull his arm away. She didn’t want him to let go, and she grabbed hold of his hand, anchoring him in place. His grip around her tightened, and she could feel his fingers splayed wide against her stomach. His touch was warm through the material of her faded t-shirt, and she was suddenly very aware that she was not wearing a bra, of his thumb in between her breasts.

The mattress creaked underneath her as she shifted her hips to turn to face him. His arm was heavy across her side, and they were nose to nose. She shivered when he trailed his fingers down her side.

He opened his mouth, but Emma didn’t want to know what he was going to say, or ask. She didn’t want to think about how this life shouldn’t be hers. She didn’t want to feel guilty for being happy, or think about how her sister’s death had given her Amy, her new life, and Zach in her bed. She didn’t want to think about any of those things, because if she did, she wasn’t going to be able to lean forward and close the small space between them. She wanted to close that gap, that distance between them that had been there since he had come back into her life in junior year, that thing she had been denying, that thing everyone had been telling her was there all along.

She didn’t want to think of any of that.

Zach opened his mouth, and Emma shifted forward and pressed her lips to his. His mouth was warm against hers, and she brushed her mouth along his bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth. He groaned, and the arm around her pulled their bodies flush together.

She was sleepy and warm, and she tilted her head back, giving Zach room to trail kisses down her jaw and neck. His fingers were strong and sure and her sides, and when he ran them underneath the fabric and across her bare skin, she felt her muscles jump.

It was dark in their bedroom, but Emma could make out Zach’s features through the dim glow of her alarm clock. She could see the intent way he looked down at her, and she reached out to smooth the furrow between his eyebrows. He turned and kissed the inside of her wrist, drawing her arms up over her head, and pinning them to the bed with one hand.

She wrapped one leg around the back of his knee, their legs tangling together in the sheets. His free hand was on her stomach, and she arched her back as he pushed up her torso, removing her shirt. This was their bedroom. They were in their bed. There was no reason for them not to do this.

She kissed him fiercely, their hands wandering everywhere, mapping out the planes of their bodies, so familiar to each other in every other way but this. They removed their clothes, and Emma couldn't contain her smile when he kissed her.

Her fingers curled into his back when he entered her, and her breath hitched. Everything felt warm and languid. Their bodies moved together in unison, and Emma couldn’t remember a single reason why they hadn’t done this before. She couldn't think of why she had been keeping Zach away, she couldn’t think of anything but Zach, and how much she loved him. She loved him.

Zach kissed her chin, her cheek, behind her ear, and they moved together. This, like everything else they did was sure and easy and right. Emma’s orgasm washed over her in hard, overpowering waves, and he held her around her shoulders while she came.

When they were done, Zach kissed her, his mouth lingering on hers, and she held him tight. Her last thought as she drifted off to sleep was that she didn’t ever want to wake up, didn’t want this moment to pass.

In the pale grey light of the early morning, Emma opened her eyes. Zach’s arm was tucked around her waist, the perfect replica of the image she had from his first night at the apartment. Moving quietly, she got out of bed, and padded across the bedroom floor into the main room. She should be exhausted, but strangely enough she was wide awake.

There was a faint light coming in from the rising sun outside the apartment windows. Emma poked her head inside Amy’s room to find the toddler fast asleep for a change.

Everything was quiet. Still. Emma felt peaceful, in a way she hadn’t in months, even before Drew’s death.

She sat in the quiet, cool kitchen until she heard Amy start to fuss from her bedroom. Then she stood and started her day.

She smiled and pulled out her phone. _Zach and I had sex_ , she texted Blair, before walking into the bathroom.

She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and pulled her hair into a quick ponytail. When she came back into the kitchen there were five texts waiting for her.

_WHAT!!??_

_First let me just say fucking FINALLY._

_How? When? Details!_

_Emmmmmmmaaaaaaa_

_Bitch, answer me._

Emma smiled and sent a message back. _Last night. Details later. Lunch?_

Her phone chirped seconds later. _The details better be juicy._

She wandered into Amy’s room, and picked the sleeping toddler out of her crib. “Time to get up, sleepyhead.”

Amy smiled at her. “Hungry,” she said.

“Let’s get you some cheerios.”

“Cheerios!” She cheered, and Emma laughed.

They were eating their cereal (or rather, Emma was taking bites from her own bowl in between helping Amy keep more than three cheerios on her spoon at a time) when Zach came out of the bedroom. His face was streaked with lines from the pillow, and his hair was standing on end. She loved him, she realised. She loved this man, who at the drop of a hat had flown clear across the country to come to her sister’s funeral. He had agreed to help her raise Amy, had moved into the apartment without being asked, went along with every half-baked scheme Emma came up with and never offered a word of complaint. He was there for her. He was always there.

She wanted him there forever.

Suddenly, every excuse, every so-called reason she had ever given for not being with Zach made absolutely no sense. She had kept them apart because she wasn’t ready, or because she didn’t know what was right in front of her face, it didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that Zach was there. Zach had waited patiently, never pushing, never taking more than she could give, never expecting anything more than what she offered him.

He waited. Emma didn’t want to wait anymore.

“Hey,” she said.

He smiled at her, and she could feel it all the way down in her bones. “Hey,” he said shyly.

“I have to run Amy to daycare,” she said. “But can we talk later? Over dinner?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, okay.” She could see resignation in his eyes, and it cut her to know she was the one who put it there. She put it there by making him wait, by always pushing him away. She could only imagine what he was expecting.

She crossed the kitchen in a couple of quick steps and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him tight to her body. His hands settled at the small of her back, and she took a deep breath. “Thank you,” she said.

He smiled hesitantly. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

She nodded, and turned to her niece. “Come on, Amy. Time to start the day.”

Blair met her at in the lobby, and shoved her hard.

“What the fuck?” Emma asked.

“What the fuck yourself?” Blair asked, before shoving her again and then pulling her into a hug.

Emma grinned at her.

“Sweetie,” Blair said, and Emma knew that Blair understood. Blair knew everything that Emma had gone through, not only since Drew’s death, but everything since college. All the drama with the gay Dans, and Emma thinking that every boy she ever liked was going to turn out gay. Blair knew all of Emma’s insecurities, all of Emma’s doubts and fears. As much as Blair always pushed her, Emma knew Blair understood why she had held back all these years with Zach.

Sometimes Emma thought Blair knew her better than she knew herself.

“I’ll never love him more than I love you,” Emma whispered into Blair’s hair, as she blinked back tears.

Blair chuckled, and if it was a bit watery, Emma knew better than to mention it.

“So,” Blair said. “I was promised details.”

Emma laughed, and they sat down. She told Blair everything.

“Have you talked to Zach?” Blair asked when she was done.

Emma shook her head. “There wasn’t really time this morning. And I was kind of... savouring it,” she said. “We’re going to talk tonight.”

Blair nodded.

“I’m nervous,” Emma admitted.

“Why?”

She shrugged. “You know how these things usually go for me,” she said. “I’m still half expecting him to come out to me one of these days.”

Blair laughed. “Oh sweetie,” she said. “Those Dans fucked you up good, huh? If I didn’t love them so much I’d have to kick their asses.”

“That wouldn’t be a fair fight.”

“Damn straight,” Blair said. She turned serious. “Emma, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this. How many times _everyone_ has to tell you this, but here it is again: Zach is in love with you. He has been for as long as I’ve known him.”

Emma sucked in a breath. She spent so much time refusing to think that one sentence, _Zach loves me_ , it was frightening to think it now. She spent so much time ignoring the fact, it was hard to look it in the face. To accept it as the truth.

“I’m just scared,” Emma said. “I’m scared of being happy, of being thankful for everything that happened. It doesn’t seem right when Drew’s dead.”

Blair wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I’m not going to say that Drew would have wanted it this way,” she said. “But if it had to happen, your sister would want you to be happy. She would want you to move on with your life, and to take care of her baby in the best way that you can. For you, that means with Zach.”

Emma nodded. It was true. So much of what she had accomplished since Drew’s death was because of Zach. She owed him so much. “I know,” she said. “I know Drew would want me to be happy. She was the one always nagging me to get out there and grab what I want. I guess,” she paused. “I guess it’s just hard now that I don’t have that. It’s hard without Drew.” She wiped away a few tears.

“You’re doing great,” Blair said. “You’re doing so great, Emma. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Emma said. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you either.”

Blair shoved her lightly. “Damn straight,” she said. “Now, after you and Zach talk I want details. I want to know _everything_.”

“You got it,” Emma promised, and wondered what she had ever done to deserve Blair.

Emma’s afternoon passed in a daze. It was still strange being back at work, but she was glad to be there. It still wasn’t her ideal job, but somehow it seemed more bearable since she had Amy with her. Less important, maybe. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to keep pursuing her writing, and eventually work for a real newspaper, or maybe even a magazine, but things didn’t feel as desperate anymore. She felt like she had time to do it right.

When she got home from picking Amy up from daycare, Zach was already in the apartment making dinner.

She walked into the kitchen. “Hey.”

Zach smiled at her. “Hey,” he said.

“You didn’t have to start dinner without me,” she said.

He nodded. “I know.”

They stood staring at each other for a long moment before Zach turned back to the stove. There was steam rising from the pot he was stirring. It smelled like he was making pasta.

She opened and closed her mouth several times, but nothing came out. She wanted so desperately to get this right. To say the right thing. This should be easy, she thought. This is Zach. That was the problem. This was _Zach_. The boy who had always been there for her. The man she loved.

They ate dinner together, and somehow Emma managed to string words together. It still wasn’t the right words, but they talked through dinner, and afterwards Emma washed the dishes while Zach gave Amy a bath. She didn’t understand how the two of them could be so _domestic_ together, how their routine could come so easily and flawlessly, but the words that would make everything better could not.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Amy was asleep and it was just the two of them. Now. She had to do it now before she lost her never.

Zach sat next to her on the couch, and Emma reached out and took his hand. “I owe you so much,” she said.

“It’s nothing,” he said.

Emma shook her head. “It’s _not_ nothing, Zach. It’s everything. You’ve been so much to me since Drew died. Since before Drew died. You’ve, god, Zach, you’ve been the person who gets me through things. I couldn’t do any of this without you. I want you to know how much that means to me. I _need_ you to know.”

He squeezed her hand. “I know, Emma.”

She sighed. “You don’t know, and that’s my fault. I pushed you away, I kept us at arms length. I was scared,” she admitted.

He reached out and put his arms around her, and she let herself lean into his warmth. “It’s okay,” he said. “Everything is okay.”

She pulled back a little to look him in the eyes. “It’s not okay,” she said simply. “But it’s getting there. Zach, I want you to know,” she broke off. His face was so open and vulnerable, and everything Emma ever wanted, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I love you,” she said and leaned in to kiss him.

His mouth was warm against hers. It was a chaste kiss, their mouths lingering together. When Zach pulled back, his entire face was lit up, and Emma knew things might not be okay right now, but they would be, and someday soon.

“God, Emma,” he said. “I waited so long to hear you say that.”

“I know,” she admitted. “I’m sorry I made you wait for me.”

He grinned. “I’m not.”

He kissed her again, and again, and again.


End file.
